


When I touch you (I feel so in love with you)

by orphan_account



Series: And I will love you anywhere [1]
Category: GOT7, Jus2
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Character Study, Denial, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:36:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Yugyeoms thinks it's hilarious that he has Hanahaki, because since when does what he feel for Jaebum classify as nothing but love?
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Kim Yugyeom
Series: And I will love you anywhere [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766086
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	When I touch you (I feel so in love with you)

At some point in the night, between midnight and sunrise, Yugyeom listened a song. It was a song for Jus2, something written just for him and his hyung.

'Touch' was a very calming song, the kind that consumed you when you left it on loop for far too long, far too late in the night. It surrounded you, and warmed you with a fuzziness that erased time.

Yugyeom leaned back on his chair, spinning in slow, idle circles as he took in the lyrics. His hyung's voice was very distinct, and oh so familiar. It was so _Jaebum_ that it physically hurt. More specifically, it hurt his chest - both his poor, poor lovesick heart and his failing lungs.

Itchiness clawed at his neck, and he could feel the familiar lodging of petals in his throat, along with the slightly newer feeling of stems. 

How ironic, that the flower that people usually compared him to, would be the things to finally kill him.

When a particular violent hack brought along a large, sunny yellow sunflower, Yugyeom threw it straight into the trash can without thought. Unlike what he read in manga and the occasional fan fiction, he never found the urge to keep the flowers or obsess over their beauty. The fact was - he couldn't understand how anyone could find death beautiful. Death just takes, and takes, and how could anything so selfish ever be remotely pretty? 

Yugyeom soon found himself lost in thought again, consumed by everything that Jaebum was.

Jaebum just _was_.

He was the moments when the sun and moon finally got together and clashed violently in bright colours. He was the tide as it crashed against the sand, loud and brash. He was everything joyous, everything miserable and everything in between. He simply _was_.

There were plenty of times when Yugyeom caught himself lost in thought, not necessarily thinking of Jaebum, but simply basking the idea of him, and the fact that he has any connection to him at all. Connections were beautiful, and so was Jaebum, and in many ways, so was Yugyeom's fixation. It was beautiful to love, to be able to give so much of oneself to another person, unconditionally and without logic or reason. Love was the greatest form of respect, to admire someone so much you love the rest of them by default.

It was so pretty, so pretty and the flowers ruined that.

The flowers ruined the beauty. The flowers were a harsh reminder of what Yugyeom failed to do: get his hyung to feel the same.

* * *

'Touch' was, almost, an encapsulation of Yugyeom's feelings. Almost. 

'Touch' told the story of mutual, yet forbidden love. 'Touch' was something that Yugyeom would have desperately wanted months ago, but now he was content. Not that he was out of love to give, because he wasn't sure he could even stop if he tried. No, he was simply okay with _this_. And _this_ being the weird grey area between platonic and romantic. Acceptance brought along a sense of being he didn't know he needed, and somewhere along that path he also realized just how obsessed with his leader.

It stemmed from the deep admiration from their trainee days, and was fueled by the closeness all the members shared. It developed far past normal attraction, or even love. Yugyeom was idolizing his hyung, and he wasn't even sure if it was ever love in the first place.

For one thing, Yugyeom never felt the urge to imagine a relationship between them. The mere thought of it felt immediately wrong. He couldn't think of flaws in his leader either. Not in the 'I accept all your flaws are perfect' kind of way, but in the 'I quite literally think of you as perfect and no longer like a human being' kind of way.

Maybe, maybe, it could be considered love. But Yugyeom doubted it.

And if even if he did manage to develop a healthy, romantic love for his leader, the green veins rooted in his lungs said a relationship would never be possible. (Though really, how much could he trust a plant? And more so, a plant that thought he felt love for his leader?) 

A questioned burned in the back of mind, one he didn't want to ask, even if he had long accepted his upcoming death.

_When will he die?_

He highly doubted anyone would have answers to that question, because even doctors said it was too rare to understand. So rare, in fact, he was the second recorded case globally. But judging by the increasing amount of blood and the increasing size of the flowers, he didn't have very long. Stems were starting to appear too, and after that, what? Leaves? Roots? And then what? 

He laughed at that thought. 

_After the roots comes death, you idiot. Because what else is there?_

* * *

Yugyeom really, really, really didn't want to die. While dying for love - he decided upon calling it that for simplicity - seemed heroic and somewhat poetic, he still didn't want to die.

Every time he performed on stage, he prepared for it to be his last. Every time he went to sleep, he told himself he might never wake up. He didn't do anything like write letters, or finish a bucket list, because any of those things would make it too real. All he could stomach were small reminders to cherish everything he had, but nothing else. Anything else was far, far too much.

So he thought. He pondered. Somewhere down the line he realised that he never even loved his leader. The L-word, in a context that wasn’t strictly platonic, only started surfacing after the flowers.

Only Yugyeom could placebo himself into thinking he loved someone.

After he coughed up a full sunflower plant, he finally felt...sadness. It was the first time he felt sad over his condition. He'd been angry; he'd be full of denial; he'd been distant; he'd been blank - but never had he felt such strong self-pity.

He finally broke, when BamBam noticed the redness of his eyes. He finally broke right then and there, and he wanted more than anything to unbutton his shirt and bare his most shameful secret to his best friend, just to receive some comfort. Even if BamBam thought he was insane, Yugyeom just needed someone to listen. To _know_.

And so he did.

Yugyeom unbuttoned his shirt then, revealing the green veins crawling over, forming a vague imprint in the shape of lungs. Of his lungs to be specific. BamBam didn't say anything, and didn't ask either, he just held onto his much taller best friend for dear life, and sobbed. BamBam cried over Yugyeom, and Yugyeom cried too, but for why he couldn't really say.

BamBam didn't demand any explanation beyond what Yugyeom gave him - that he loved someone and it was killing him, _yes, just like in the mangas, Bammie._ He didn't ask for names. He didn't ask Yugyeom why he didn't get rid of them. He just did what any good friend would do, and supported him the whole way through.

It was simultaneously harder, and easier, with a friend who understood. Yugyeom could feel concerned glances at him every time he coughed, or even cleared his throat. He was grateful for the comfort, but it was also extremely taxing. BamBam still hadn't cleared the denial stage that Yugyeom had months ago, even if he was trying his best to be supportive. But Yugyeom didn't regret telling BamBam, not for a second, and he probably never will.

* * *

Right before their comeback for 'Call My Name', Yugyeom's condition got worse overnight. 

He woke up one morning, in the midst of their final preparations, gasping for air. His eyes welled up with tears. He could taste the bitter petals lodged in his throat. He was choking, and clawing at his throat. He tried calling for help, but no sound came out from his lips. 

He could hear Mark or Jinyoung preparing breakfast outside, and he tried crawling feebly to the bedroom door. If he could just reach it, and force it open, then-

A particularly violent cough forced the flower past his lips, covered in blood and saliva and phlegm. Yugyeom slowly removed his hand from the doorknob, and for the first time, stared at the flower on the bedroom floor. 

He could feel himself slipping, his lungs finally failing him. There was blood dripping down his throat from a cut that stunned and burned, not too different from a sore throat. A small, selfish part of him wanted to force open the bedroom door, if only to say goodbye.

_But what did it matter when Jaebum wasn't outside to hear it?_

Yugyeom laid back down on his bed, wrapping himself up in sheets. His vision was already fading, and his entire world was tilting on an axis. He fumbled around for his phone, and dialled a number.

"Bammie? I think I'm dying." Yugyeom's voice was oh so quiet, so small and childlike. He couldn't find the strength to do anything more than whisper at this point.

Bambam chuckled darkly, his voice rough and calming from sleep. "So it's finally time, huh?"

"I think so, Bammie." Yugyeom couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips. "Could you talk to me?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Of course. And it's going be okay, Gyeom-ah. It's gonna be just fine." BamBam took in a ragged breath. "Just close your eyes, and listen to hyung's voice. Go-go right back to sleep, and everything will be okay."

"I'm afraid, hyung."

Yugyeom could feel BamBam nodding along, even through the phone screen. "There's no need to be afraid. Hyung will be right here, okay? Just listen to my voice, and let go."

And so he did.


End file.
